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“Everyone that guy knows is a chode. You’ll have to be more specific.”
“The one who looks like Eminem’s long-lost hillbilly cousin.”
I snort-laugh at the description but it still applies to more than one person who hangs out at Zips.
“Stay here and keep an eye on Molly,” he says. “I won’t be gone long.”
“As if I wouldn’t be looking out for her otherwise?”
He slaps my shoulder. “You know what I mean. Don’t tell her about this yet, okay? I want to do it.” He holds up the envelope. “I’ll give it to her when I get back.”
“All right.”
He turns and jogs toward the parking lot.
Shaking my head, I make a beeline for the grill. I wasn’t kidding about wanting a burger. Hunger twists my stomach.
“Where’d Remy go?” Molly asks, hurrying to catch up to me.
“The bar.” I glance over my shoulder. “You done riding with Hayden?”
“For now. Darcy and Kyla are with her.”
“Hungry?”
“A little.”
I twine my fingers with hers and head straight for Pax’s grill. He grins when we approach and taps the side of his spatula against a plate piled high with greasy beef patties wedged between fluffy, golden buns. “All mine?” I ask.
“No,” he says with the slow patience of someone speaking to a child. “For your table.”
Molly gathers paper plates, napkins, condiments, and a few other items. “Where do you want to sit?”
I nod to a long picnic bench at the back of the patio. A line of trees behind it offers some shade.
I walk behind Molly as she navigates the maze of picnic benches and tables scattered on the patio. People wish her a happy birthday as we pass. She offers a smile and a thanks but keeps moving, much to my stomach’s delight. The smell wafting off the plate of burgers in my hands is killing me.
I sit at the far end of the table, and Molly slides onto the bench across from me. “You don’t want to sit next to me?” I ask.
“I’m always afraid these things will tip over if too many people sit on the same side.” She pushes at the edge of the table.
I lean sideways and dip my head under the table. “Pretty sure it’s bolted right into the ground.”
“Oh.” She laughs. “Okay.”
I slide down so she doesn’t have to step over the bench. Once she settles next to me, I rest my hand on her knee under the table. “That’s why I wanted you next to me,” I whisper in her ear. “This dress has been driving me crazy all day.”
She lets out a slow, shaky breath.
I slide my hand higher, skating over warm, silky skin. “Your legs feel so good.”
The corners of her mouth quiver. “I used my special birthday shave oil and body butter this morning.”
I don’t even know what the fuck body butter is, but it sounds like something I’d like to smear all over Molly. “Oh, yeah?”
“It’s birthday cake scented.”
Lord help me.
